26 of 30, 2015

Silhouette

I was meant to hold a place,
seatfiller for the celebrity of self
chosen. Now I am ensign
of the fearful brave, users content
to be seen as aggregate data
and the guesses of their watchers
parsing wonder. Being the first
safe thing requires a sublime state.
So much loathing and wrong apostrophe
follows me. Once when pain mortified
I wished a mouth to beg, O replace me
with yourself, or a joke about yourself.
I have become the freely given space
and the love it means. If I had a face
or a dimension I would glow to contain
these secret, kicking children.